Stranger Than Fiction
by N1ghthawk
Summary: A sorcerer in training at Kamar-Taj discovers that her destiny is inexplicably linked with that of a 'strange' new arrival. As she tries to understand why her destiny had become entwined with his, she is drawn into a war she wanted no part of, and must decide who she can trust and where she must place her faith when everything she thinks she knows becomes a lie.
1. Chapter 1

This story is the result of a request from Goddess-of-the-Moon-39. Hope you enjoy it; I've had a lot of fun creating it!

Trigger warning in first chapter for war-induced PTSD and some pretty dark thoughts from the main character, and there is some swearing throughout. To be clear, I've figured from the little bits of information in the film that its events begin in 2012ish, so the flashback in this chapter is from 2009 and then the main events are in 2012.

Disclaimers: All recognizable characters and events belong to Marvel.

….

" _Hey Bricks, think there's gonna be any action this time?" Lieutenant Casey slaps my shoulder and I shrug, half-smiling._

" _Dunno, they won't let me anywhere near it." I shift on the none-too-comfortable seat of our transport and readjust my helmet. The Afghan summer heat is oppressive enough without adding the bulky protective tac gear. "Army says no women in active combat roles but sure, let's send the communication tech team thorough a roadside bomber hotspot 'cause it's the quickest way to get 'em where we need 'em."_

" _Long as top brass is men, there's always gonna be double standards, Bricks." Maggie Walsh, one of my best friends and consistent rival at West Point, finds the situation just as intolerable as I do. "Really, if they'd let us go at it, they'd have a hunnerd years 'o pent up resentment an' a lotta us just itchin' to prove ourselves in a scramble."_

" _We're getting' there, Walsh," I say, thinking of the women who've been making headlines recently. "Changes are comin'."_

" _Can't come fast enough." Walsh is fidgetier than I am, and even though she's tiny she's a born scrapper, a little Charlestown Boston Irish hellion. She gave me hell the first few months at West Point until we mutually decided if we couldn't outdo each other we were going to join forces._

 _I can still hear the angry shouts of our drill instructor from the time we actually ended up in a fistfight (I swear to God Walsh started it) on the parade grounds. No, that's not in my head, that's real, why do I smell fire, oh shit…_

 _And then the world is a roar and flipping upside down and white fire and black smoke and the sound is deafening. And nothing at all._

 _Snatches of voices. Fading in and out. "Bricks! Oh God, just hang in there…" "Need an evac…" "Captain Avery Brixton, female, thirty-three, five foot nine, blood type B pos., Shrapnel embedded…punctured lung…might need to amputate…leg's too far gone…Losing…!"_

And I fly up from my bed in a cold sweat, panting, still trapped in the exact moment my life-well, as the Ancient One would say, my astral form-left my body. Or more accurately, the first time it did. Twice in an airlift. Three times in an operating theater in Kandahar.

There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep again. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and then sit there, just wondering in the amazement of that for a moment. I can move both my legs, of my own volition.

My left leg, under the fringe of my night robe, is one solid mass of scar tissue, suture marks, and pinned bone, but it's mine. Somehow, in the middle of an Afghan field hospital, a tenacious medic managed to save my leg, or what was left of it. Don't even know who he was.

Granted, for a long time I wasn't grateful at all. No one else in my vehicle had survived. Sassy, wild girl Walsh was never going to get to open that bar she'd said she was gonna buy and fix up in her old neighborhood. Casey wouldn't get to see his daughter take her first steps. My radio tech, Jackson, never said much but I got the feeling from that picture he used to keep tucked in his helmet he was waiting to get out of his ROTC duty to move in with his boyfriend.

And then there was me. Me with the dysfunctional family; the alcoholic sister and in and out of jail car-thief brother, and no future in sight. Eight months of recovery stateside, two years physical therapy that never seemed to do a thing for me…some days I wished one of those deaths had been permanent.

I had lived to be a soldier, a warrior, a defender. I'd been a month out of ending my third tour of duty and planning to join the Detroit police department to give back to my hometown when I got my discharge. I couldn't imagine life without the risk, without the fight to save the innocent. And with that taken away, and the only real jobs left being something deskbound, I was lost. I freely admit it got bad. PTSD, nightmares like the one I just had but infinitely worse, panic attacks that would leave me literally frozen, and then the drugs.

I never took them as an escape. Not that that's any excuse for what I did, but I was too proud to do that. I took more and more until it hid the pain, hid the weakness, and let me push on like nothing was wrong. And I was addicted. To the ability to make it through a day without feeling like my leg was useless. To pushing myself in therapy and telling myself I was getting better because it hurt less.

I pushed too far, and my body told me what my mind couldn't. One day I just collapsed, and I was told, when I woke up, that what I had tried to do had irretrievably damaged my leg. I was so low that night that I really, truly thought about something I had once sworn on a friend's grave never to do. I told myself I'd already been gone five times, what was one more?

I didn't see an end. I had no one and no plans. With no hope of ever walking without a terrible limp. The only thing that saved me was my brother. Goofball kid hung out with some guys in the neighborhood who'd just come from the Big Apple and one of them said he used to play basketball with a guy who'd had a broken back and was walking.

Nate lost no time in telling me that with his typical wide-eyed enthusiasm. I didn't believe him, frankly, until he dragged his friend to the care facility to meet me. And three months later, I was in a leg brace, and headed to New York.

It took me a long time to find Pangborn, and the guy was cryptic as hell when I did speak to him. But he gave me the thing I needed most, hope. Although it was Walsh's parents who sent me the money for the plane ticket to Kathmandu. Well, the money Walsh had wanted me to have if something ever happened to her, her 'fix the bar' money. The note in the envelope when I picked up the weeks of old mail at my sister's place that we shared whenever I was home (she was never sober enough to bring my mail by the hospital), simply said, "Use it for your dream, Bricks."

Well, that dream took me to a run down alley and a woman whose age I didn't know, and things I thought only happened in the pages of books. When the Ancient One started going on about magic I was thinking this was all a little too _Harry Potter_ (yes, don't judge me, my cousin's kid left the first one behind when they came to visit me in the hospital once and I was bored out of my mind with nothing else to read-and okay, maybe I liked it and read the whole series, but _stop judging me, I can feel you doing it_ ) for me.

And then she started talking about the astral form and the memory hit me. Of being suspended, painless and timeless, outside my own body and watching the medics trying to resuscitate me. And I knew she wasn't lying. Because I'd been there.

I think she saw it in me, because when I stopped arguing and just looked at her with that feeling that finally, _someone understood what that was,_ she smiled. And then she told me, with that knowing look that used the scare the bejeezers out of me, that I wasn't done being a defender. That I could still be a warrior, I just had to learn a new way to do it.

Training has never been strange to me. And somehow, the magic came naturally. I was used to controlling my body, controlling my thoughts and even emotions in intense situations, and that served me well. Mastering the sling ring was surprisingly easy, and I soon found ways to work around my debilitating limp as well.

I've been here, at Kamar-Taj, for eight months now, and I've never felt more alive. I'm in tune with life now in a way I never was. I was always hyper-observant, a trait that served me well in the field, but now I don't just notice little things, I take pleasure in them. Like the way the sun shines through the golden leaves of my favorite ginkgo tree on a cloudless day. Or the smell of dusty books in the library as I browse shelves while the librarian and one of my best friends, Wong, rocks out on his I-pod to his new favorite songs. Yes, I introduced him to the wider world of pop music, specifically my Beyoncé workout playlist. No, I have no regrets.

Honestly, this place is more modern than I expected. We have Wi-Fi, and if I had a computer that would be awesome. But I prefer hiking (with my magically-empowered leg brace…and it's really much cooler than it sounds) and sitting by my favorite waterfall and doing the meditations the Ancient One instructed me in when I showed an interest in exploring not only the physical, but the spiritual healing magic could offer.

But sometimes the nightmares still come. And tonight I don't feel like pushing them out with thoughts and chants. Tonight, I'm going to push them out by force.

I buckle on my leg brace, which glows faintly blue ever since the Ancient One cast a spell on it for strength and mobility, slip into my burgundy training robes (a sign that I'm no longer a novice pupil but advancing in the ranks-that's something I understand well) and creep out of my room, careful not to disturb the other students of the Ancient One who sleep here. Some live in surrounding villages and leave for home each night, but those from farther away, like me, make this our home.

In the training room, I bind my hands and then tie my hair away from my face. It's still something of a shock, even after three years, to see the silver-grey where there was once mahogany brown. When I first saw myself in a mirror, five months after the bombing, I had thought I looked like my grandmother. My hair had gone white from the incredible stress.

I've grown it out of my former standard-issue crew cut and now it's long enough to tie back while I train. I move to the center of the room and begin conjuring shields, small at first, then larger as my body relaxes and I fall in tune with the energy currents all around me.

"Double diamond shield; that's new. Borrowing Wong's books again?" I don't even so much as flinch at the sound. I knew Mordo would find me here. He always does.

He moves beside me and I draw on his energy, the strong, stonelike stability that he exudes. I'm more in tune with the element of water, myself, and my motions are more fluid, but Mordo's spells are stronger. Everyone, the Ancient One told me, draws on one of the elements to support their magic. She herself is one of the few who is strengthened by fire. Most sorcerers do not have the control to harness the chaotic energy of fire.

"I dreamed about it again." I don't have to explain, he knows all about my past and the horrors I carry.

I practice for a long time in silence, Mordo beside me. He never fails to be there for me when I need him. Lately, it seems like more than just two wounded souls trying to repair each other. There's something else in his eyes when he looks at me.

I'm not sure how I feels about that. Mordo is a good friend, but sometimes I feel so distant from him. Especially times like these. Mordo concentrates purely on the physical aspects of magic. The physical healing it can provide, and the physical power it gives.

Not long after I began to heal, I discovered that magic held a key to mental healing as well. The magic was helping my body but the PTSD was continuing and getting even worse. I was spiraling back into the depression that had held me for so long, and beginning to wonder if this was even worth the time I was spending.

And then one day during training, I felt myself fall outside my own body. Felt the touch of the astral plane. And it was like nothing I have ever experienced. In that moment, I was truly alive. And when I moved and it faded back into reality, I wanted to get that back more desperately than I have ever wanted anything.

I asked the Ancient One to teach me how to tap into that side of her art. She smiled at me in her mysterious way, and said something cryptic about destiny and the true purpose of magic. And then she taught me how to calm my spirit, how to still my mind in meditation, and how to align my own astral energies with the greater plane.

I discovered that I loved the peace that meditation gave, and I've spent many hours away from the main compound, high in the mountains in my favorite place to be alone and realign. I sit in the quiet and feel as if this is what I was born to. Something in me has been searching all my life for this feeling, and now that I have discovered it, I never want to leave. I've stopped thinking about how my leg will never really be right again, and how I'll never be able to do what I used to, and begun to love the life that has opened to me. Honestly, now, I can sometimes even be grateful for what happened. Because it catapulted me into the life I didn't know I was missing, the life I was truly meant to live.

I'm taking my time, as the Ancient One advised, simply exploring the astral realm. She promises that my calling will show itself in time. She doesn't say as much, but I can see from her eyes that this is not normal in her students. That there is something about me that she finds rare. And that she apparently wants to mentor. Ever since I expressed interest in seriously studying the spirit of magic, she has spent much more time with me and begun to treat me more as an equal than a pupil. It's honoring, but at the same time, a lot to live up to.

But when I told Mordo about how alive the spiritual side of magic made me feel, he laughed. He doesn't tap into the spirit of magic when he works with it, and he seems to think I'm some sort of hippie freak talking about the astral plane and out-of-body experiences. He says that's all nonsense and that I ought to focus on honing my battle skills, because there is a fight coming.

Just before I arrived, something terrible happened here. A former student called Kaecilius and his minions stole pages of dark magic and murdered the librarian whom Wong replaced. Now, it is likely that Kaecilius is seeking to harness dark magic to destroy the world.

I believe Mordo's right about the war, but not about how it must be won. Skill can lead only so far to victory, as I've seen proved on the battle front time and again. To really win the battle that's coming, we will need faith and belief.

Panting, I stop my practice and wipe the sweat from my forehead. "Thanks, Mordo. I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him, looking back as I leave the training room. He's watching me with that strange look on his face, and I feel a twisting in my stomach as I walk away, and I'm half-tempted to ask him what he's really feeling. Despite our disagreements about magic, we are a formidable team. I could be happy with him, I think. So why do I feel so wrong when I imagine that future?

….

Hope this intro brought Avery's character in well! We'll find out more about her connection to Stephen in the next chapter, I promise. But I felt that since she's such a complex character she deserved a good introduction. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey! I'm really impressed with the response to my first chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited this, and here's the next installment, much earlier than I thought I would have it done!

Disclaimers: Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

###

Despite waking up at odd hours, I make it through the real training of the morning without trouble. It seems the Ancient One can sense the lingering effects of my dreams, though, because during a short rest she joins me in meditating. Although she says nothing, I can feel her reaching out astrally in comfort and support.

I have to admit that I do still feel a slight disturbance in myself, but I'm not sure if it's from the dreams or from my confusion about Mordo. I've felt his eyes on me all morning in training, even when he's instructing another pupil.

I've got to think about what to do because I cannot let this go on. We are both getting distracted and I know that every time I think about him my concentration suffers. I'm not sure if that should seem an ill omen, or if it means we need to be working together. All I know is, I need to do something before a war with Kaecilius begins. The Ancient One has as much as outright told Mordo and me that we will be leaders if the need arises. It's intimidating enough with me being so new to magic at all. I don't need to be dealing with these conflicting feelings.

I know only one way to calm myself and get to the heart of my dilemma. I'm going to go off to my secret place and meditate. Tap into the astral realm and hope I can find some way to resolve this. I kind of feel like an idiot thinking I'm going to meditate and find my 'destiny'. But at this point I can't think of anything else to do.

I don't say anything to the Ancient One before I leave. First, she knows I'm prone to going off alone and doesn't expect me to be in the main complex all day. Secondly, I'm fairly sure that if I tell her what I plan to do, she's going to tell me what I'm already thinking.

"It's just lazy to think you can use the astral realm as some sort of shortcut to reading your destiny. Real magic isn't crystal balls and fortune telling. Real magic is accentuating what is inside yourself. It's about being brave enough to make your own destiny, not hoping for someone to lay a glowing road map for you."

I know all that, but I'm still holding onto a shred of hope that maybe the universe will make an exception for me.

I buckle on my leg brace and hike up the steep slopes behind Kamar-Taj, walking slowly and taking the time to slow and calm my spirit. I breathe deeply in the fresh, clear air, so different from the crowded city I can see spreading out below. All of the complex and the land around it are hidden from the city by magic, similar to the way I've learned to use the mirror dimension. This place has existed for centuries and the city was built around, and literally on top of it without causing any change.

Every time I come here I do feel the connections to the honored past of this place. The Ancient One's spirit has infused this place so deeply that I feel as if she's actually watching me. And maybe judging my motives, just a little.

Finally, I reach the waterfall and its plateau, and I sit down in the soft grass, cross legged, and listen to the birds and water as I breathe deeply and close my eyes. I rest, and as I sink into that halfway world I feel the familiar peace wash over me. And then something new. A tiny little tingle, like touching a bad light socket.

For a moment, I'm worried. But then I remember that the Ancient One told me to trust what I find here. That my magic will shield me from harm, and that I have the gift of seeking things in the spirit plane. So I decide, what the hell, let's try this.

I'm no longer concerned at all with chasing my destiny. This is new and strange and I have to investigate.

I turn in the astral plane, body still at rest beside the stream, and reach out toward the touch with my mind. But it's gone. But I know better than to give up. Instead I relax, and treat the touch like a feral cat I want to tame. Don't chase it, let it come to you.

Old me would have gotten impatient and frustrated with the amount of time I'm spending in absolutely still meditation. Would have called it useless. But I have to find that source again.

And then there it is. I wait, as the prick grows stronger. A little painful, even. And then, when the ache behind my eyes is almost too much, I turn my thoughts to it in full. And there it is. A tiny scarlet thread of prickling light, dancing along beside my own blue thread.

I don't think I'll ever know just what made me do it. But I couldn't help myself. I reached out one astral hand and touched-just touched-that little crimson line.

It's like the time I saw a main electric line be pushed into a secondary by a falling tree. The world explodes in a blaze of white and gold light, and I fly backward, not just astrally but physically, into the waterfall pool.

The shock breaks my trance and everything's gone. I stand up, spitting out a mouth full of water and silently grateful I wasn't doing this next to the edge of the cliff overlook. At least the water's a soft landing.

I walk back down the mountain in more of a hurry than I came up, anxious to discuss this with the Ancient One. But before I find her, I almost literally run into Mordo at the gate.

"Av, are you all right? What happened?" He asks. I've almost forgotten about my dunking, and when I reach up to push my damp hair back it's a mass of snarls.

"I was meditating, and I fell in the stream."

"Were you standing on your head?"

"Of course not. No, I felt something in the astral plane."

"Again? You say that every time you come back. When are you going to do something useful with all those auras?" I know he's joking, but I'm not in the mood to have him knock my spiritual life, even if it is in fun.

"This was different! Like a life line or something. I've never seen anyone else's in the astral plane but my own. I have to ask the Ancient One what it means." Then I have a sudden insight. _What if this is the astral plane's way of telling me who I'm destined to be with? I was asking what my future was. What if seeing the life line next to mine was meant to tell me who I'm meant to live with?_

And then I have a realization that shakes me to my core. Those life lines are colored based on our elements. Mine is blue because I'm water-based. Mordo's, with his earth alignment, would be green. So it isn't him I'm tied to.

The thought makes me unconsciously pull away from him a bit and drop my eyes. "It was pretty overwhelming; I need to go rest now."

I rush away, feeling his curiosity and confusion following me as I go. He's not going to take this well, and I'd best collect my thoughts and figure out how to break it to him in the best way I can.

I'm no longer concerned with going to the Ancient One. I have no idea how to explain any of this to her, and I need some time to process what I just realized. I go straight to my room, even though the gong is being rung to announce the dinner hour. I lay back with my hands behind my head, but I just can't calm my thoughts. They're agitated and rushing and tangled, and despite my best efforts I cannot bring them under control. Then the stress catches up with me and I drift into an uneasy sleep.

 _A dark road. Lights. Falling, pain, crashing…stillness and falling rain. Drops hitting a dark pool and the ripples spreading out, coming closer, getting bigger…_

I wake up coughing, feeling that water in my lungs, hands feeling like they're on fire for a reason I don't understand. _This isn't my dream, this is new, oh hell what have I done?_

###

Well, hope you enjoyed it! Guess whose the life line is ;) ;). Comments and constructive criticism are welcome. Thanks so much for reading and hope you have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again! I've been busy for a while, but I finally found the time to write again! Here goes…

###

My walk to the market with Mordo the next morning is awkward. He seems to be avoiding talking to me, and when he does, it seems formal, stilted, or trivial, like when he's asking for my opinion on which merchant's fish seem to be fresher.

I'm actually glad to be returning to Kamar-Taj where I can immerse myself in the astral plane again. I need to know what happened to me with that life-line. Why my dreams changed for the first time in years. I'm so immersed in my thoughts that I'm actually failing to take in the world around me, something that my PTSD has made nearly impossible.

"Av. Av!" Mordo shakes my arm, hard. "Something's going on." I jerk out of my thoughts and then I hear it. Shouts and groans coming from an alley nearby.

"Come on. We need to check it out." I feel my daydreaming slide away in the rush that comes with going into battle mode. Muggings are not that uncommon in this part of Kathmandu, and we usually don't get involved. But there are cases-and I think Mordo's only interested because he's desperate for a real fight. He's frustrated and angry, mostly about me, and he needs to beat someone up.

We round the corner into the alley, and I can already feel my magic forming tiny shields around my hands. There are at least four men kicking one figure curled in on himself on the ground. There's almost no time between that first glimpse and the blur of action that follows as Mordo goes postal on them.

I'm still dealing with my first man when Mordo, after a complicated series of kicks, flips, and blows from his staff, has just bested his last. Seeing they're beaten, the men bolt.

I reach down to help their victim to his feet, and I look down into a pair of intense blue-green eyes that seem to lock with mine. A charge like electricity runs through my palm, and then I see them. The lifelines, side by side. The fiery scarlet one is his.

I have never seen such strong power in my life. He has a fire that is only matched by the Ancient One herself. If he is coming to be trained at Kamar-Taj, then Mordo and I certainly have a powerful ally in the making for the battle that we know is coming.

We stand, and I let go of the man's hand, which is now shaking violently-leftovers from the adrenaline dump from the attack?-and approach Mordo. I want to tell him about what I felt, but then I hesitate. Do I want him to know this is the one whose destiny I saw meet mine?

The moment of hesitation is all it takes. Mordo speaks first. "What happened?"

"They wanted money. All I had was my watch. He holds up his wrist, and I see the cracked face of an expensive-looking watch. It's a bizarre contrast to the worn shoes, scruffy beard, and bandaged hands. Is this guy some kind of undercover millionaire? Someone disguising his real identity? Why?

Mordo has come to the same conclusion. "That was foolish; you should have given it to them. You know nothing of life here. Who are you?"

"I am Doctor Stephen Strange. I'm looking for Kamar-Taj. It's the only chance I have left of fixing my hands."

Stephen Strange. I know that name. Someone had suggested that I go to him to try to fix my leg, but I didn't have the exorbitant fee that he would have charged for his help. At the time, I'd mentally cursed the man and wished he knew what it was like to be desperate to be fixed and not have any means to get there. Now, I feel guilty for that thought. The Ancient One has taught me that anger only brings pain.

Now I know what the dream was. A car accident, hands crushed, probably irreparable nerve damage. I know the feeling, and my throat tightens. The devestation of having a calling, one thing you are good at, the only thing that gives your life meaning. To lose that is to lose yourself. So he was right to come here. Kamar-Taj is the only thing that saved me.

Unfortunately, Mordo doesn't seem to share quite my feelings. "I can take you there. Come." His voice sounds cold. Did he see the lifelines too?

We begin walking toward the compound, all three of us side by side even in the narrow alley. I can sense Stephen's skepticism as we go deeper into the impoverished neighborhood. When we stop in front of the beat-up green door that disguises the entrance to Kamar-Taj as a hack fortuneteller's shop, he pauses.

"Are you sure this is the place?"

"Yes. Do not judge by the look of the place," Mordo says, with a meaningful nod to Stephen's own less-than-respectable state. I knock, and the door swings open. Stephen is taller than anyone I've ever met; he has to duck to avoid smashing his head into the doorframe.

When we step into the warm, incense-imbued air, I flash back to my first moment in this place. My doubts, my fears, my skepticism. My connection to Stephen is feeding those same thoughts into my mind now. Stephen watches as the old caretaker stands up; I know he assumes this is the Ancient One. I did. And then she appears, with that glow of hope around her. And I know things are about to get very, very interesting.

###

Well, sorry again that it took me so long! I'm really enjoying writing this, but my dialogue in these parts is probably atrocious because I can't find a transcript of the movie. If anyone knows where I can find one, please let me know, it would really help! Thanks for all the follows and support!


	4. Chapter 4

Hi all! I know it's been ridiculously too long, but I had a death in my close family and have been fighting depression for almost a year. I'm finally feeling better and able to deal with some of the harder days by writing. It took me a while to create anything that wasn't an angsty mess, but I'm finally feeling better and here's the result!

###

Stephen seems as much in awe of the massive difference inside Kamar-Taj as I was. He stands in the center of the main room, staring at the elegant woodwork and brilliant colors hidden behind the tumbledown façade. But the thing he's clearly most impressed with is the Ancient One herself.

"Uh, thank you, Ancient One... for... seeing me..." He's clearly at a loss for words. From the power of his astral field, I think he must be able to sense hers. The fire elements are probably reacting with each other. I know that when two people who share an element base interact, the result is either a seamless blending and cohesion of magic…or an explosive disaster.

"Thank you, Master Mordo. Thank you, Apprentice Avery." Her soft voice is relaxing, and the rest of the adrenaline from the fight falls away from me. I can feel her reaching out to me. She knows I found the lifeline I was seeking, and I know she has questions. But she wants me, for now, to leave her with the newcomer.

I step off to the training floor and begin a series of slow shield-conjuring spells. They're my favorites. I think the feeling of being able to protect myself is the reason I like them so much. I feel safe in a way that is so rare since the bombing that it's more precious than gold to me. When I'm creating a shield, I know that no one can touch me through it, and it's relaxing. So relaxing, in fact, that I fall into the astral plane often now while doing it.

I jump when I realize I've fallen in and see the lifelines again. The red one is pulsating, and almost without meaning to, I reach out and tap in. The result is a tinny, faraway sound, like I'm listening to a bad radio transmission in the field.

"You're talking about cellular regeneration. That's... bleeding-edge medical tech."

His voice isn't the same as it was when I heard it in the alley. I must be hearing what he hears in his head when he speaks. I'm literally in his mind. The feeling is disturbing in the extreme, and I back out fast. But I'm too curious for my own good.

"I spent my last dollar getting here on a one-way ticket, and you're talking to me about healing through belief?" I drop my hands. He sees magic just like Mordo did. A physical power to be used for one's own ends. Something to be exploited. Not something to be touched, valued, interacted with, a living thing.

"You're a man who's looking at the world through a keyhole, and you spent your whole life trying to widen that keyhole. To see more, know more. And now, on hearing that it can be widened in ways you can't imagine, you reject the possibility?" The Ancient One sounds as insulted as I feel.

"No, I reject it because I do not believe in fairy tales about chakras, or energy, or the power of belief. There is no such thing as spirit! We are made of matter, and nothing more. We're just another tiny, momentary speck within an indifferent universe." I know I felt that way after the accident. Like I was lost and meant nothing. But this place helped me find the purpose that was already inside me that I just couldn't see.

"Oh, you think you see through me, do you? Well, you don't. But I see through you!"

And then there's an explosion of astral energy and I'm thrown across the room. I see the training room and the main room at the same time. I see Mordo watching me and the Ancient One with her hand outstretched. I was still linked to Stephen Strange when the Ancient One pushed him into the astral realm, and I'm stuck inside his head. We're falling together, backward through space and time and worlds I have never seen before, carried on the power of two fire elemental magics combining. The Ancient One's voice is in my head and his. _This is insane._ I'm falling next to him, and he glances sideways. I know he sees me, and there's a momentary shock in his eyes, but I doubt he'll remember that when we're falling through a forest of hands. I've had training and entered the astral dimensions, and I'm freaking out. He must be close to having a psychotic break. And then we both fall back into our bodies. I'm lying on the floor of the training room, gasping, panting, and strangely energized. _That was the astral plane on a level I've never experienced. How did that happen when he doesn't even believe? And what would happen if he did?_

I walk back into the main room, prepared to offer to train this Doctor Strange. I want to get back into that power, and he's the only person who's taken me there. The Ancient One wouldn't do that, she felt I wasn't ready. But he won't care. And I am ready. That experience just proved it.

"Ancient One…" I stop on the doorstep. She is watching me with mild disapproval, and he is nowhere to be seen.

"Apprentice Avery. What have you done?" She steps forward and I feel her aura tap into mine. She saw me in his mind. She knows all of it.

"I'm…I'm sorry." I stop and stare at my boots. _I should know better than to ever think I can plan to go behind her back._ "I didn't mean to. I was just conjuring shields. And I tapped into the astral plane and got stuck in the doctor's head."

"I saw. I have never seen that happen before without extensive training. It is…incredible power." Her eyes lose their disapproval and gain something like curiosity.

"I would humbly ask that I complete my apprenticeship by training Stephen Strange." She has been talking about me taking on an apprentice of my own and becoming a Master for some weeks now. It has been my dream since I felt the astral plane.

"I am afraid he is not…ready to be trained. I have sent him away."

I blink, and then hear a faint pounding at the door. "Please! Open the door! I believe what you showed me!"

"Not ready? Did you see the astral plane when he went in? That's stuff I never reached. He's got amazing power. And he wasn't even trying." I can't believe this. He has so much power. We can't afford to send someone with his capability away, not on the brink of war. _You don't send your tanks to the back of the line when you have to clear a city._

"He does not believe. And if he did, his power is too strong for an apprentice to be responsible for. Now perhaps you should go and complete those shields."

I cannot argue with her. So I return to the training room. I don't know how long I stay there, but I've missed the meal when I come out. And I can hear Mordo and the Ancient One talking in the main room.

"5 hours later, he's still on your doorstep. There's a strength to him." Mordo is arguing in his defense, and as much frustration as I feel with that man right now, I'm grateful.

"Stubbornness, arrogance, ambition...I've seen it all before."

"He reminds you of Kaecilius?"

"I cannot lead another gifted student to power, only to lose him to the darkness."

"You didn't lose me. Or Avery. We wanted the power to defeat our enemies. You gave us the power to defeat our demons.

"We never lose our demons, Mordo. We only learn to live above them."

I step out of the shadows. "Please hear me. He is powerful. I have seen what he can do, and I believe he has potential." Both of them look at me in confusion, but make no move to stop me. "There may be dark days ahead. Perhaps Kamar-Taj could use a man like Strange."

The Ancient One nods, and I walk to the door. I can still hear Stephen behind it. "Don't shut me out." He's still pleading after all this time. He wants this. We need to train him. We need him. "I've nowhere else to go."

I open the door and he falls inside. "Stephen Strange. Welcome to Kamar-Taj, Apprentice."


	5. Chapter 5

Two chapters in one day! Guys, I know I'm doing better. I really appreciate the reviews and messages I got while I wasn't posting actively. You guys got me through some rough days, knowing that people appreciate what I do and that I'm not just wasting my life by being an author.

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Mordo and I walk the new apprentice down the hall to his room. He stares down at the small bed and the latticed window. "Yeah, it's not the Hilton, but I promise it'll feel like home." I remember thinking anything was better than the dust filled bunks I used to spend months in.

"Rest," Mordo says, handing him the bag he was carrying. "Meditate...if you can. The Ancient One will send for you."

Stephen picks up a piece of paper lying on the bed with the word Shamballa written on it in fancy script. I'm still trying to master that writing style. "Uh, what's this? My mantra?

"The Wi-Fi password," Mordo replies, straightfaced.

"It's actually really decent. Might have something to do with astral fields," I put in. Honestly I don't use it often. Just a few emails to a few people, never many details. It's hard to write home when all I want to do is tell them how much I'm learning, how amazing it feels to tap into the astral dimension. But they'd think I've gone insane if I did.

Mordo and I leave Stephen to his room. I deliberately move in front as we walk. I don't want to talk to Mordo, not when his aura feels so sharp and tastes bitter on my tongue. He was none too happy when I interrupted his conference with the Ancient One, and he doesn't like the immediate connection I had to Strange. I don't blame him. It's disconcerting for me too. But I know better than to resist the dictates of the magic we live by.

"Avery, wait." Mordo catches me by the sleeve of my robe. "What happened today?"

I play dumb, hoping he doesn't know as much as the Ancient One did. "What? Us saving a crazy man from some even crazier ones?"

He shakes his head, frowning. "In the training room. What was that? You were spazzing out up there. Looked like you were having a seizure."

I shrug. "I was in the astral plane. You know I do that when I cast shields." I try to shake my arm loose. "I missed dinner. I'm gonna go see if old Kendo will give me something from the kitchens."

"I've seen you in the astral plane. This was something new." He pulls me to a stop, staring me in the eyes. Something in his aura is almost feral, and it scares me. "Avery, what is he doing to you?"

"Nothing!"

"You've acted strange since we found him." He doesn't pick up on his own unintentional pun, and I'm not in the mood to point it out. I miss the times we laughed at each other's weird ways of talking about magic, and the dumb things we would say after a training session with a new spell left us high on adrenaline and astral feedback. I took so many videos on my phone and once blackmailed him into letting me try his staff by showing him a video of his bad rendition of "Don't Stop Believing". I miss that Mordo. This one frightens me.

I have always had reason to fear men. In my neighborhood, there were all too many on street corners ready to steal my money, my body, or my life. It didn't get better in the army. I lived every day hoping I wouldn't be the next statistic for unreported rapes in the military. I was lucky. Some of my friends weren't. So I have plenty of experience not trusting men.

But I thought Mordo was different. We were connected by the magic we harnessed. I never felt that he was possessive or cruel. He seemed kind and honorable, and the kind of man who could make me believe I didn't need to fear for the rest of my life. But the kind of fear he inspires in me is deeper than any of the others. Others could take my money, my body, or my life. I have the horrible feeling that Mordo can take my magic. He can take my soul.

"There's nothing wrong. I swear. It's just that his magic is powerful, and the Ancient One has taught me so much about aura sensing that I'm getting a little overwhelmed. But I'm sure it will get better soon."

"Perhaps you shouldn't be near him for a while."

"But I want to help her train him. I can conn…" _No. Do not tell him about that. Don't let him know you've been in Strange's mind. He'd never believe that it meant no more to you than a new way to connect to the astral dimensions._

"What's this I hear about training?" The Ancient One's voice slides into the conversation so gently I wonder if she's only in my thoughts. But Mordo is looking too.

"She is having some sort of reaction to Strange's aura. I feel it would be unwise for her to be near him."

"Let me see." The Ancient One puts a hand to my cheek. I feel her magic slip into my veins, a diagnostic spell to see if I've been damaged by any spell or ward. I remember her doing that the time I fell down the mountain and was caught by a protective warding that left bruises on my back for days. And again when I touched a strange glowing plant in the astral world and began violently throwing up everything I had eaten for the past three days. "She is not suffering from a magical poisoning of any kind. And his aura is not attacking hers. Actually, the two are blending remarkably well."

I sneak a glance at Mordo to see that his face is lined with something approaching anger. This is exactly what he did not want to hear.

"So I can work with him?" All I want is to train him. To teach him that the true healing magic gives is not for his body, but for his heart and soul. If Mordo trains him he will never learn. And Mordo is the most likely other choice. _I want to show him the astral plane my way. Show him the beauty in ways that won't overwhelm him._ I want someone else, someone besides the Ancient One, someone more like me, to understand.

"I cannot allow you to train him yourself, Apprentice. But I will allow you to assist myself and Mordo, and when he is trained, you will be a Master." The Ancient One stares straight into my eyes as she says it, and I know she knows what I want. I can see that she feels a bit of pain, because she knows that I will never be able to treat her as an equal, or feel completely comfortable in her presence. But overwhelmingly, there is pride. _Mordo may be her most powerful student, but I am the one she sees herself in. I chose her path of magic. And she knows I want to share it like she does._

"Well, if I'm to be training him, I'll need my rest," I say quickly, pulling away from both her and Mordo and nearly running to my room. I can feel the rage pulsing through Mordo's aura even when I'm behind a closed door, and it's frightening. I force myself to search for someone else's. The Ancient One's is ever-present here, infusing all of Kamar-Taj with its soft scent of jasmine tea and honey. My own is darker, Mordo says it has a dark chocolate taste and feels like knit scarves when I'm calm and content, but becomes gritty and hot when I'm afraid. I know it taps into the fear and the burning desert sand from the bombing then.

I know everyone's auras by heart now. They're simply a part of the place to me, as much as the soft music of the gongs or Kendo's spicy cooking, or birdsong in the morning from the mountain. But Strange's new aura is…well…strange. It smells of bleach and metal and tastes like alcohol. My brain suddenly darts to a place with _cold blue walls and harsh fluorescent lights, someone screaming "I need that transfusion now!" and my own breath and my leg burning up_ ….His deeply medically-infused aura caught me in my own memories of the hospital. But the one in Kandahar was beige and everyone was yelling in Arabic-accented English and babies cried in the halls. That hallway was an American hospital. I have his memories and mine and they're so badly mixed I can't tell where one begins and another ends.

I feel a wave of nausea hit, and I lie back on my bed, reaching for his aura again despite the pain it caused. I need to know. _There's a screech of metal. An explosion. Sand…no, water, flying up all around the vehicle. It's dark…daylight…Ambulance lights, blue walls, tan walls, leg hurts, hands hurt, can't think can't breathe can't get out…_ I break the connection and sit up, panting. Somehow I know that halfway across the building he's doing the same.

If I keep doing this, we'll only become more disoriented and neither of us will sleep. I lie back and let the metallic tang float above me, forcing myself not to breathe it in. It's more tempting than it should be. All it gives are memories of fear and pain. So shy do I crave it more than I ever wanted a second shot of whiskey?


End file.
